


What Doesn't Kill You

by Marblez



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Language, Minor Character Death, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-27 09:53:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7613506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marblez/pseuds/Marblez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written as part of the 'Little Black Dress Challenge' (July 2016) hosted by Rough Trade. </p><p>Sentinels and Guides in the District are poorly treated/exploited whilst in the Capitol they are revered/fawned over. As such whilst those in the Capitol are “out and proud” those in the District’s tend to hide their gifts, living their lives alone and miserable. Peeta Mellark, an online Guide, is Reaped for the 74th Hunger Games and finds himself fighting alongside/against the only person he has ever felt drawn to in his life – Katniss Everdeen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

**Title:** What Doesn't Kill You

 **Author:** Marblez

 **Fandom/Genre:** Hunger Games

 **Relationship(s):** Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark

 **Content Rating:** R

 **Warnings:** Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Language

 **Summary:** Sentinels and Guides in the District are poorly treated/exploited whilst in the Capitol they are revered/fawned over. As such whilst those in the Capitol are “out and proud” those in the District’s tend to hide their gifts, living their lives alone and miserable. Peeta Mellark, an online Guide, is Reaped for the 74th Hunger Games and finds himself fighting alongside/against the only person he has ever felt drawn to in his life – Katniss Everdeen.

 **Word Count:** 3,380 (Part One)

**~ WHAT DOESN’T KILL YOU ~ (MAKES YOU STRONGER)**

**~ PART ONE ~**

_War, terrible war._

_Widows...orphans…a motherless child…_

_This was the uprising that rocked our land._

_Thirteen Districts rebelled against the country that fed them, loved them, protected them._

_Brother turned on brother until nothing remained._

_And then came the peace; hard fought, sorely won._

_The people rose up from the ashes and a new era was born._

_But freedom has a cost._

_After the traitors were defeated we swore as a nation that we would never know this treason again._

_And so it was decreed that each year the various Districts of Panem would offer up in Tribute one young man and one young woman to fight to the death in a pageant of honour, courage and sacrifice._

_The lone Victor, bathed in riches, would serve as a reminder of our generosity and our forgiveness._

_This is how we remember our past._

_This is how we safeguard our future._

**_‘The Treaty Of Treason’_ **

~ * ~

**THE ARENA – DAY FIVE**

Dragging himself away from where he had confronted Cato in a desperate attempt to give Katniss who had been suffering from a series of hallucinations time to escape Peeta could barely suppress a whimper as the wound to his leg came into contact with, well, everything.

Rocks…

Dirt...

Twigs...

Branches...

Leaves...

If it was on the ground then sadly it seemed to be determined to add to his pain.

Somewhat worryingly the lower part of his injured leg was already beginning to go numb which left him unable to get up and walk no matter how much he desperately wanted to.

It was a small mercy that he had managed to escaped un-stung by the swarm of tracker-jackers that Katniss had used to attack the Career Pack with which he had allied himself with at the start of the Games after the initial bloodbath, all in the hopes of leading them away from Katniss and keeping her safe for as long as possible. Glimmer had been killed by the insects as had the female tribute from District Four, the nest having struck the ground almost directly beside them once Katniss had succeeded in cutting it free from the tree.

Cato, Clove and Marvel had survived, fleeing into the trees but had definitely been stung.

As the “untrustworthy” member of the Career Pack he had been relegated to sleeping the furthest away from the fire they had built up underneath the tree but in the end this had meant that he had been up on his feet and running moments after the nest had exploded.

_“You should try to keep the wound as clean as possible.”_

He snorted, glancing up towards the tiny patch of almost impossibly blue sky visible through the trees surrounding him where he could see his majestic Spirit Guide circling gracefully.

“Seriously?” he snorted, pulling himself over until he could lean back against the base of one of the trees, automatically pressing a hand down against the wound which only caused the pain to flare up even more. “Now? Now you appear? I've been trying to survive in here for _days_ and you wait until _after_ I've already been injured to come and offer your sage advice?”

Dropping down through the trees the semi-translucent eagle swooped down to land on a suitably thick branch of the tree opposite where he had come to rest, low enough for him not to hurt his neck too much looking up at the creature. Shaking out its wings in a move that could almost be interpreted as a shrug the Spirit Guide responding simply with,

_“You were not alone before.”_

“Libs,” Peeta began, using the shortening of his Spirit Guides name just to annoy him, smirking at the creature huffed loudly. “I'm not alone or had you forgotten the fact that this is the Arena of the Hunger Games? That the whole of Panem is probably watching, if not them then at least the Gamemakers in the Capitol. There are cameras _everywhere_ in here.”

 _“My name is Libertatem and I would prefer you use it properly,”_ his loyal companion instructed him predictably, his talons digging into the branch upon which he was standing. _“And of course I had not forgotten. Pardon me for assuming that you would have more important things to worry about than people outside of this Arena finding out your secret.”_

“Fair point…”

What did it matter if everyone found out that he was a Guide?

He wasn't getting out of this Arena anyway.

_“And you really should try to keep that wound as clean as possible or risk infection.”_

“I think we're a bit past that now, Libs,” he muttered, lifting his hand away from the wound and glancing down. Only the fact that he had a naturally strong stomach saved him from emptying his guts then and there at the sight of his gaping flesh oozing blood, a thick layer of dirt packed inside the open wound complete with some twigs and a couple of leaves. “Pretty sure this is beyond saving as far as keeping it clean and infection free goes.”

_“At least wash it out and try to keep it clean from now on.”_

Peeta sighed deeply.

Washing out the wound actually sounded like a brilliant idea as he was pretty sure half the reason it was aching so much at this point was because of the amount of muck inside it but where would he find enough water to do a good enough job without going back to the lake?

“I can't go back to the lake,” he sighed sadly. Across from him Libertatem tilted his head to one side in a silent display of confusion. “The lake by the Cornucopia where the Careers were no doubt recovering from their tracker-jacker stings? You know, the Cornucopia that said Careers are predictably using as their base camp? I have no desire to present myself for immediate slaughter, thank you very much. Not to mention I'll never make it that far…”

No, he was not going to risk going anywhere near the Careers camp

_“I'd forgotten how cranky you can get when you're in pain…”_

Wait…

Yesterday…

Huh. Was it really only yesterday? It seemed like weeks ago…

Yesterday when the Careers had been hunting they'd come across Katniss in a…

“…a river,” he gasped softly. “I need to find that river.”

Closing his eyes he focused his senses, turning down everything but his hearing, and searched for the one sound he desperately needed to hear – the sounds of water flowing freely over the stone bed of the river, perhaps even shifting some of the smaller rocks…

There!

His eyes snapped open as he sucked in a deep lungful of air, not having even realised that he'd held his breath for the duration of his search, his mind swimming for a long moment before he was finally able to slowly turn his head towards the direction of the river.

“I can do this…”

 _“Of course you can,”_ Libertatem scoffed loudly as though he was offended that Peeta had dared to doubt himself and his capabilities. _“I shall watch over you from above, Guide.”_

Waiting until his Spirit Guide had gracefully taken to the air once more, letting out a sharp cry as he disappeared through the trees, Peeta looked around for a branch which would be large enough for him to use as a walking stick. He _did not want_ to have to drag himself all the any to the river, not with how far away it sounded. Walking was definitely preferable.

Eventually he found one that seemed like it would support his weight as well as being long enough and, using the tree to brace himself, managed to pull himself up on to his feet.

He couldn't stop the whimper that escaped his lips, however, as the pain was just too much.

By the time he eventually emerged from the treeline, stepping out onto the wide expanse of rock on his side of the river, he had bitten through his bottom lip in order to keep himself from crying out with each and every step he took. He’d always hated the taste of blood more than anything else, the metallic flavour making his stomach churn uncomfortably.

At least this time he didn’t have a fractured jaw to go along with it courtesy of his mother’s favourite rolling pin after he’d “spoiled” birthday cake for Madge, the mayor’s daughter…

_“You’re leaving a trail of blood, Guide.”_

Peeta sighed.

He was very much aware of the fact that blood was also dripping from his thigh, splashing onto the ground beneath his unsteady feet leaving an obvious trail but there was nothing he could do to stop it as he needed to use both hands to utilise the improvised walking stick.

Hobbling to the water’s edge he focused on not crying out as he dropped down into a seated position, choosing not to respond to his Spirit Guide’s comment as he set about walking himself forwards on his bottom until his legs were emerged in the running water.

It was by pure chance that he was on the side of the river which meant that he could angle his leg so that the water flowed against the wounded side of his leg, the pressure behind the water aiding him in working free the worst of the muck inside it with the tips of his fingers.

“Oh...bugger...” he couldn’t help but hiss as the pain flared up to an almost impossible level as his fingers succeeded in getting the worst of the dirt out of the wound and began working at removing the bits actually embedded into his flesh. “Buggering…buggeration… _bugger_ …”

 _“Anyone would think you only know the one curse word,”_ Libertatem giggled from high above him, his ethereal voice carrying through the unnatural silence currently filling the inside or the Arena. Peeta rolled his eyes up towards him. _“I know you better than that…”_

“Just because I know them doesn’t mean I have to use them… _bloody hell_ …” he cut himself off with a pained cry, slapping his hand down across the wound as his finger nudged at something embedded deep inside the wound. “Well, call me a hypocrite but _that hurts_ …”

Bending his leg as best he could he tilted his head in order to best see inside the wound once he removed his hand, searching for the object which had caused him so much pain. It was tiny, little more than a splinter, but it was a nightmare to remove and hurt worse than anything else. Once it was out he gave the wound one final clean and then set about tearing a strip off of the bottom of his undershirt, wide enough that he could use it as a bandage.

 _Now to find a place to hide,_ he thought to himself as he pulled himself out of the water, looking about him and finding nothing but rocks and trees. He tried to remember what he’d learned. _There must be somewhere around here. I don’t think I can make it much further…_

It was just as he had resigned himself to heading back towards the trees to find shelter when he noticed the shadowed recess created by one of the large slabs of rock overlapping a slightly smaller slab of rock. Abandoning the walking stick he pulled himself across the rocks, keeping his injured leg from making contact with the ground, until he could lay himself down parallel with the recess. It would be _just_ big enough for him to completely lie down in and the moss and long green grass it was filled with would be perfect camouflage.

All he had to do was figure out a way to camouflage his face…

The rocks around where his head would end up lying were a very distinct grey colour which would be difficult to match with anything else available however when he rubbed his hand across them a layer of grey dirt transferred onto his hand and little pieces of rock broke off.

“Perfect…” he sighed to himself, his mind instantly supplying him with an image of covering his skin with a thin layer of tacky mud which he could then cover with the thick layer of the grey dusk and rocks. He might even be able to make it look like his face was literally part of the rock, using a mixture of the mud and the moss and the grass to connect his face to the larger rock, which would definitely help to hide him from view. “Time to get to work…”

~ * ~

**THE ARENA – DAY TEN**

By the time the surprising announcement was aired throughout the Arena, the voice of Claudius Templesmith echoing unnaturally, Peeta had already begun to give up all hope.

He had intended to leave his hiding place the morning after he'd seen the images of Glimmer and the girl from District Four whose name he hadn't managed to learn high above him in the night sky as part of the daily ‘ _Tribute to the Fallen_ ’ but when he'd finally woken up from his restless sleep he found himself too weak to move. Whether it was from blood loss, hunger or dehydration he didn't know, all he knew was he was stuck where he was.

For the first couple of days he had been tense, or as tense as he physically could be in his condition, waiting for someone to come across him but they hadn't. In fact nothing much seemed to happen at all if the lack of canons and nightly broadcasts were any indication.

He was jarred from his sleep on the morning of his third day in hiding, his eighth day inside the Arena, by the unmistakable sound a canon signalling the end of another life and he silently prayed that it hadn't been for Katniss, the girl he had been in love with since he'd first heard her sing back when they had been children just starting what counted for an education in District Twelve. If anyone deserved to make it home it was Katniss Everdeen.

She shouldn't even be competing get in these Games but it also wasn't a surprise that she was, after all what else could she have done after her younger sister was Reaped? There's was a family based on love and devotion, of course she would volunteer to take her place.

Not like his own brother, eighteen year old Ryall, who had remained silent after his name was called. He didn't hold it against him, though, as their family was different. Yes, his father loved them but his mother had made it plain that her three sons were nothing but an inconvenience that had been forced upon her. Her constant neglect and all too frequent abuse, both physical and verbal, had left all three of the Mellark boys with a somewhat twisted expectation of family and the belief that everyone had to look out for themselves.

No, he didn't hold it against Ryall at all…

A horrific expulsion, the kind of thing everyone in District Twelve dreaded hearing as it usually meant something serious had happened at one of the various mines, had pulled him out of the dose he had settled into sometime in the afternoon however it had only been followed by a single canon a couple of minutes after the echoes of the explosion had faded.

Again, he prayed for it not to have been for Katniss.

That evening it had been a relief to look up into the night sky and see the expressionless faces of the male tributes from Districts Three and Ten staring down at him although, as ever, the compassionate part of his soul ached with grief at their lives being cut so short.

Libertatem, who had disappeared sometime during the first night, had returned then.

_“You grow weak, Guide.”_

Peeta had tried to muster the energy required to answer him but had been incapable of doing so, little more than a croak emerging from his dry mouth. If only his Spirit Guide were a corporeal creature he would have begged him to bring him some water in his beak but, sadly, the strikingly beautiful eagle remained ethereal as he circled in the sky above him.

_“I shall stay with you, Guide. You shall not pass from this life alone.”_

One of the many regrets which had spun through his mind in response to the reassuring statement had been that his inevitable death would also mean the death of his loyal friend.

The thought of Libs ceasing to exist actually upset him more than that of his own demise…

If he had been physically able to he would have wept when he saw the innocent young face of Rue broadcast in the sky on the ninth day, following the image of Marvel but as it was all he could do was let out a pitiful groan as her image faded as quickly as it had appeared.

 _Please let it have been quick,_ he found himself pleading silently, fists clenching underneath the layer of moss hiding them. _Please let it have been painless. Please say she wasn't alone…_

No child, no matter who they were or where they came from, should have to suffer a slow, painful death, alone and frightened. Especially not when they were only twelve years old.

So far there had been no canons on this, his fifth day in hiding, only the announcement.

 **“Attention, Tributes! Attention!”** the booming voice had called out moments earlier. **“The regulations requiring a single Victor have been…suspended. From now on two Victors may be crowned if both originate from the same District. This will be the only announcement.”**

It sounded too good to be true and yet his mind readily supplied the information he required to figure out that there were only two Districts left in the Games that could benefit from this amendment; District Two with the murderous Cato and sadistic Clove and District Twelve.

_District Twelve._

If he and Katniss could hold on long enough to outlast the rest of the tributes then they could go home, they could _both_ go home.

Yes, it definitely sounded too good to be true but that didn't stop his heart from beating stronger than it had in days, didn't stop the warmth of hope spreading throughout his body.

He could go home…

~ * ~

When he first caught sight of the large grey wolf emerging from the trees he thought he was hallucinating, the creature moving too quietly for a real animal not to mention that it's coat seemed to catch the moonlight, creating an almost otherworldly glow about it as it moved.

It paused just past the tree line, sniffing the air for a long moment before it tilted its head back and howled in a way that banished all thoughts of it being a hallucination brought on my the fever he knew was tormenting his weak body. He could only assume it was a mutt, a muttation designed by the Gamemakers to make the Games more interesting to watch.

And wasn't it just perfect timing, hours after he finds out that he has a chance to survive this they send a mutt to eliminate him from the competition. Obviously his slow death wasn't entertaining enough for the people in the Capitol, they wanted something quicker, messier.

Libertatem let out a sharp cry although he sounded less distressed than Peeta had expected.

As the wolf padded across to where he was hidden he allowed his eyes to flutter closed, resigning himself to a brutal end, and was therefore thoughtfully surprised when instead of attacking him where he lay unable to move the wolf stretched out beside him, letting out a sad whine until he slowly cracked his eyes back open and met the animals piercing gaze.

 _“She comes,”_ the soft voice reverberated from somewhere deep inside the wolf. _“Hold on.”_

Oh…

It wasn't a muttation at all; it was a Spirit Guide.

But…

“Who comes?” he somehow managed to call out softly, his voice cracking. “Who?”

Tongue lolling out happily the wolfs mouth stretched into a wide grin of razor sharp teeth.

_“My Sentinel. Hold on, Guide. She comes.”_

It couldn't be…

_“She comes.”_

Katniss…

**~ END OF PART ONE ~**


	2. Part Two

**Title:** What Doesn't Kill You

 **Author:** Marblez

 **Fandom/Genre:** Hunger Games

 **Relationship(s):** Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark

 **Content Rating:** R

 **Warnings:** Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Language

 **Summary:** Sentinels and Guides in the District are poorly treated/exploited whilst in the Capitol they are revered/fawned over. As such whilst those in the Capitol are “out and proud” those in the District’s tend to hide their gifts, living their lives alone and miserable. Peeta Mellark, an online Guide, is Reaped for the 74th Hunger Games and finds himself fighting alongside/against the only person he has ever felt drawn to in his life – Katniss Everdeen.

 **Word Count:** 3,380 (Part One) 5,749 (Part Two)

**~ WHAT DOESN’T KILL YOU ~ (MAKES YOU STRONGER)**

**~ PART TWO ~**

**THE ARENA – DAY THIRTEEN**

Concealing the fact that she was an unbonded Sentinel had become so natural in the years following her unexpected emergence following the death of her beloved father that she hadn't even given it a second thought when she'd volunteered to take her sisters place, hadn't considered what it might actually mean for her to compete in the Hunger Games.

Having no one but her younger sister to turn to at the time, her mother shutting herself from the world in an effort to cope with her own grief, Katniss had unintentionally begun treating Primrose like a pseudo-Guide. Unlike her older sister Primrose had a gentle soul which settled about her like an aura of calm, not to mention a level head and a natural talent for healing. In the beginning she had accidentally dragged Katniss from her mind when she was trapped in a zone out whilst struggling to learn how best to control her senses but now, after nearly five years, she could perform the service as well as any Guide.

It had quickly become apparent how much more challenging the Games would be for her because of her secret when she'd suffered from three separate zone outs on the train journey to the Capitol and then a further two during their stay in the penthouse suite.

Thankfully it hadn't happened during the various training sessions and public appearances.

Knowing what she did now she suspected the fact that Peeta was with her had something to do with that, rather than the fact that her shields were at their strongest when she was in public as she had assumed at the time. Even with him lying only a couple of feet away from her, her own Spirit Guide stretched out beside him, it was still difficult for her to process.

Peeta Mellark was a Guide.

More than that she was beginning to suspect that Peeta Mellark was _her_ Guide.

Sitting there beside him she couldn't help but wonder how long he'd been online, whether or not he'd been struggling for as long as she had to control his own senses. She'd heard the same horror stories as everyone else, about how unbonded Guides were empathically weak and vulnerable. How long had he been forced to survive in a house filled with such hatred?

After all it was no secret that Mrs Mellark was a cold hearted monster who hated her sons.

How much time had they wasted pretending to be perfectly ordinary human beings who weren't driven by their instincts to follow their hearts and find their perfect matches?

How much pain had the Capitol caused them on top of what they'd already been aware of?

After all it was the Capitol's fault that they couldn't be open about the gifts they had been given back home in District Twelve due to the fact that people who were found out to have come online, be that as a Sentinel or a Guide, were taken away for “training” from which they either returned different, their senses artificially blocked, or they didn't return at all.

It was a completely different matter when a Capitol citizen presented as a Sentinel or a Guide, she knew that as she had seen some of those lucky individuals during her brief time in the city. They were revered for their special gifts and given extra opportunities to succeed in their chosen field of employment. A lot of the Gamemakers were Sentinels, the Stylists were almost completely made up of over-privileged Guides. Cinna, a mundane, was a rarity.

There was even a government sponsored program to aide them in finding their perfect matches which used a variety of scientific methods to pluck the pairs of names out of the database, at which time they would Bond before being officially presented to the President.

It was a _big deal_ to be born a Sentinel or a Guide in the Capitol.

In the Districts it was all but a curse.

_“Stop.”_

Frowning across at her Spirit Guide she grumbled softly

“Stop _what_? I'm not doing anything.”

Ao, her wolf, scoffed loudly as she lifted her head up off of her paws in order to glare at her.

_“Yes, you are. You're thinking. Loudly. It needs to stop. It's distracting me from the Guide.”_

That was more than Katniss had heard her Spirit Guide utter in whole weeks before now…

_“If you must think make yourself useful. He needs nourishment.”_

“Oh, I see how it is,” she muttered to herself as she rolled to her feet in the low confines of the cave, snatching up her bow and her quiver of arrows. It would do her good to go hunting, to expel some of her restless energy. “Good to know which one of us you prefer.”

_“He'd never shot an arrow at me.”_

“That was _one_ time…” she muttered to herself as she ducked out of the cave knowing full well her wolf would still be able to hear her. “I thought you were attacking me and Prim. I'd only come online a couple days earlier and was still freaking out. Can you blame me for firing guest and asking questions of the enormous sold with razor sharp claws and teeth?”

_“Please do not fire at me, Sentinel.”_

Blinking up at the majestic bird sitting on a branch high up in the tree Katniss couldn't help but smile to herself. It had been like something out of one of those awful Capitol movies when she'd come across the creature during her search for Peeta, only to learn that the eagle was Peeta's secret Spirit Guide and be led to his location where her own Spirit a Guide awaited her. If they'd been in a Capitol movie there would have been a slow-motion running scene culminating in a less than realistic kiss and/or Bonding moment. As it was she had been bear hysterical with worry upon finding him delirious with fever and unable to move.

If it hadn't been for their Spirit a Guides she'd never have found him as he had used his camouflage skills to literally turn himself into part of the river bed, something she wouldn't have believed possible had she not seen it for her own eyes. She'd uncovered him and gently as she could whilst working relatively quickly, very much aware of how exposed they were, and had been horrified to find the blood soaked bandage encrusted around his thigh.

Most of her time washing him in the river had been spent trying to separate the foul smelling fabric from his discoloured flesh, gagging almost violently at the sight of the dark lines stretching out from the edges of the wounds underneath Peeta's skin. Even she with her limited knowledge of medicines and healing knew what that meant –blood poisoning.

It wasn't good.

“Anything you could send me would be greatly appreciated, Haymitch…” she muttered, not for the first time, as she began looking for something to hunt. “Seriously, anything at all…”

It had been a struggle to get Peeta back to the cave she'd come across earlier that day during her search for him, her own malnourished body only just managing to support the two of them long enough to make it safely to the cave. Her own wounds, as serious as they were, paled in comparison to his to the point where she hadn't even thought about asking for something to fix the lack of hearing in her ear following the explosion she'd triggered.

She'd sat up all night praying for each breath he took not to be his last.

He'd woken once, briefly, and they'd managed to have a somewhat sluggish conversation.

~ * ~

_“…Katniss?”_

_She'd gone from dozing to wide awake in the blink of an eye, scrambling across to kneel beside him and take hold of the hand reaching out for her. His hand wouldn’t stop shaking._

_“Yeah, it's me,” she murmured, reaching out lay her other hand on his forehead. “Hi.”_

_“Hi…” Peeta mumbled, smiling dopily. “S’good to see you…Sentinel…”_

_She couldn't stop herself from smiling down at him._

_“It's good to see you too, Guide,” she murmured, instinctively leaning in close in order to catch his natural scent underneath everything else. “And we need to have a talk about…that…once you're feeling better. For now you must be hungry. I'm afraid I don't…”_

_“M’not hungry…” Peeta mumbled apologetically. “S’funny, I haven't been hungry in days.”_

_That was not good…_

_“Peeta, we need to get some food in you.”_

_“I'll just cough it back up,” he countered apologetically. “I'm fine. Really. Just tired…”_

_“And you can,” she found herself promising. “Just…just let me check on your leg again.”_

_She hadn't thought it possible for his leg to look any worse than it had earlier on snd yet the sight of the pungent flesh when did undid the fresh bandages she'd applied. A mixture of blood and pus burst out of the inflamed gash when she touched the edges of the wound dripping down the skin of his thigh which was now covered in a spiderweb of black lines._

_“Oh, God…”_

_“Pretty awful, huh?”_

_How could she answer that?_

_“So-so,” she tried playing it off as not so bad as she hastily rewrapped the festering wound. “You should see some of the people they bring my mother from the mines. The most important thing with a wound like this is keeping it clean so I'll wash it out every hour or so.”_

~ * ~

It had been horrific and vomit inducing but she'd done it.

It hadn't helped.

She heard the familiar metallic pinging sound long before the silver parachute came into view, floating down between the trees with too much precision to be carried by the wind.

Her hands were shaking as she tore open the protective outer shell to reveal what was safely contained inside – a large container of steaming hot lamb stew with dried plums.

“Peeta…”

Securing the container she abandoned the rest of the parachute for the moment in her hurry to return to the cave, dropping down to her knees beside him before shaking him.

“Peeta! Peeta, wake up!” she called out desperately. “Peeta!”

“What?” he gasped, his eyes going wide as he stared up at her. “ _Sentinel_ , what?”

A pleasant warmth surrounded her heart at the formal title, stealing her breath away so much she could do nothing but present him with the metal container in response.

“Is that…is that medicine?”

“No,” she managed to respond apologetically. “It's soup. The lamb soup with dried plums.”

“That…that smells amazing…”

His voice was thick with confused wonder and she wasted no time at all in feeding most of the contents of the container, slowly and carefully do as not to overwhelm his stomach.

“That…that was nice…”

“I'm just glad you managed to eat something,” Katniss admitted, gulping down the last of the soup which he hadn't been able to manage before setting aside the empty container. “You look like you've got a bit more colour in your cheeks so obviously you needed it.”

“Obviously…” he mumbled softly. “Katniss, thank you for finding me.”

“You would have found me if you could,” she murmured in response, resting her hand on his forehead in order to check his temperature. It was burning up even hotter than before.

His response came with a sad smile,

“Yeah, I would have. Look, if I don't make it back…”

No.

No, she wouldn't let him think like that.

“Don't talk like that,” she ordered him sharply. “I didn't drain all that pus for nothing.”

“I know,” he agreed, sad smile still firmly fixed in place. “But just in case I don't…”

“No, _Guide_ ,” she snapped, fists clenching impulsively. “I don't even want to discuss it.”

“But I – ”

This time when she gave into the instincts thrumming through her body and soul it was to the urge to claim his lips with hers, tasting him for the first time. The rush that followed was like nothing she'd ever felt before, the feeling of her senses beginning to ground on something solid for the first time in so many years, something safe. Something _right_ …

“I won't lose you, _Guide_ ,” she told him firmly when she finally pulled back, her lips tingling from the leftover feeling of his skin against hers. Taste. Touch. Scent. “I won't. I _won't_.”

His eyes lashes fluttered as he gazed up set her, mouth open in shocked wonderment.

“All right,” he finally murmured, reaching up with a shaking hand to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. His breath can't in his throat briefly. “I won't give up, _Sentinel_. I promise.”

Yes.

_Yes._

_“Guide…”_

_“Sentinel…”_

~ * ~

Peeta was dragged from the first pleasant dream he'd had since his name was plucked from the glass bowl at the Reaping Ceremony by a voice so loud it felt like his ears were bleeding.

**“Attention, Tributes! Attention!”**

In a desperate attempt to lessen the pain he brought his shaking hands up to cover his ears, turning his head to the side as his eyes sought out Katniss. She was sat closer to the mouth of the cave and seemed to be in no better condition than him, actual tears of pain leaking down her cheeks as she covered her own ears with her deceptively slender hands.

 **“There will be a feast tomorrow at the Cornucopia,”** Claudius Templesmith continued mercilessly and Peeta, dazed and confused as he was, couldn't help but wonder how the people in the Capitol were interpreting their reactions to the noise. Particularly the Capitol Sentinels and Guides. Would they be horrified by the blatant attack on the heightened senses or would they be amused? **“This will be no ordinary occasion. Each of you needs something, desperately, and we plan to be generous hosts. Each of you will find that something in a backpack, marked with your District number, at the Cornucopia at dawn. Think hard about refusing to show up. For some of you, this will be your last chance.”**

Silence…

It only took him a second to recognise the look of grim determination rapidly appearing on the face of his Sentinel, her eyes locked not on his face which he could feel had settled into a look of horror but on the wound to his leg which admittedly seemed to be getting worse.

“No,” he gasped as firmly as he could, reaching out for her. She responded automatically, scooting closer to him so that he could grasp her hand. “You're not risking your life for me.”

She frowned down at him.

“Who said I was?”

“Well, the furrow between your brows for one and the look of determination for another…”

Neither of their Spirit Guides were present at that particular moment in time but Peeta could have sworn he heard both of them chuckling loudly somewhere in the distance.

“I'm not going.”

“…you're not?”

Ravaged by fever as he was, his senses all over the place from the platonic imprinting they had accidentally begun and had yet to complete, he couldn't tell if she was lying to him.

“Of course I'm not going,” she all but snorted, reaching out to smooth back his sweat soaked hair before resting her wonderfully cool hand across his forehead. “Give me some credit, Guide. Do you honestly think I'm going to go running straight into some free-for-all against Cato and Clove and Thresh? Don't be stupid. I'll let them fight it out. We'll see whose face appears in the sky tomorrow night and then we can work out our plan from there.”

No.

She was _definitely_ lying, his senses be damned.

His Sentinel was saying exactly what she thought he needed to hear, all the while planning on how to get their bag from the feast by herself and he knew why. The announcement had made it perfectly clear, even with the fever clouding his mind, that the medicine he so desperately needed to survive would be part of the gift waiting for them come morning.

“You're such a bad liar, Katniss. I don't know how you've survived this long if I can figure out you’re lying even without my senses being fully functional,” he announced and this time he definitely heard their Spirit Guides chuckling, both creatures appearing at the mouth of the cave. Libertatem had definitely taken to Ao, given how he was perched upon her back gently scratching her back with his deadly talons. “Never gamble at cards. You'll lose everything.”

Her cheeks flushed red with more anger than embarrassment at having been caught out.

“All right, I _am_ going,” she grumbled, almost pouting. “And you can't stop me!”

If she'd grown up with older sibling she'd have known that any time that particular phrase was used issuing a clear challenge that the only response that could possibly be given was a firm and decisive counter attack, sometimes utilising a little bit of emotional blackmail.

“No, I can't stop you,” he agreed, meeting her triumphant gaze as he continued calmly. “But I can follow you. At least partway. I might not make it all the way to the Cornucopia but I can certainly make it close enough that if I start yelling your name someone will be able to find me. You know perfectly well that Cato and Clove are going to split up. I wonder which one will go for the bag and which one will stay back in support? Either way I'm dead for sure.”

Katniss scoffed.

“You won't get a hundred metres from here on that leg.”

“Then I'll drag myself,” he countered with as confident a smirk as he could muster even as the thought of moving sent a share of pain pulsing up his leg. He hadn't had the heart to tell her that the feeling in his lower leg had completely gone now as opposed the odd numb sensation he'd had a few days earlier. He feared what that would mean. “You want to go? Fine, _Sentinel_ , I can't stop you but just be prepared for the fact that I _will_ be coming too.”

Katniss spluttered loudly.

“What am I supposed to do, Peeta?” she demanded sharply. “Sit here and watch you _die_?”

No.

No, he wouldn't force her to do that.

“You should leave me,” he responded, his tone completely different as he revealed the desolate sadness weighing him down. “But not to go to the feast. You should wait, like you said, and let them kill each other off and then you can pick off the survivors and go home.”

“Not without you, _Guide_ ,” she countered firmly, gripping hold of his face and pressing her lips to his almost desperately. “Either we go home together or we don't go home at all.”

There was no denying the conviction behind her statement.

She meant it.

He sighed sadly, admitting defeat for the moment.

“Is there any of that soup left?” he enquired softly, more to change the subject than because he was actually hungry, his stomach cramping up at the mere thought of food.

“No, but I spotted some berries a little way off. I'll nip out and get some.”

“Don't get too wet…”

She was gone in the blink of an eye, long before he could even finish getting his warning out which left him alone with their Spirit Guides who moved as one to stretch out beside him.

_“She won't give up so easy.”_

“Oh, I know how stubborn she can be Ao,” he sighed, reaching out to pet the wolfs soft fur. It was strange, just like it was whenever he ran his fingers through Libertatem’s feathers, the feeling of touching something that wasn't entirely there. “I've watched her from afar for years before now so I know exactly what she's capable of. She on the other hand has no idea that of the three of us I was always the stubborn Mellark boy. I can dig my feet just as well as she can when the situation calls for it…not that I can feel one of my feet just now…”

 _“If anyone can figure out a way to get both of you home it is Katniss Everdeen,”_ Libertatem announced confidently, gently nudging Peeta's cheek with his beak. _“Have faith, Guide.”_

Faith…

It was only a couple of minutes later that Katniss returned with a handful of berries, making her way across to sit on Peeta's other side, glancing briefly at the Spirit Guides before carefully beginning to feed the plump berries to him one at a time until they were all gone.

“Mmm…” he found himself humming in appreciation. “They're very sweet…”

“Yes, they're sugar berries,” Katniss responded instantly, wiping the juice from the berries onto her already stained trouser leg rather than licking it off of her skin as he half expected her to. “My mother makes jam from them. Haven't you ever had them before?”

“No…” he mumbled, frowning softly as he realised that there was something strangely familiar about the aftertaste the berries had left behind. “But they taste familiar…”

“Well, you can't get them in the market much,” Katniss continued with her explanation, very obviously trying to reign in her response to his confusion. What the… “They only grow wild.”

His eyelids suddenly felt heavy.

“They're as sweet as syrup,” he murmured thoughtfully, almost absentmindedly but his brain sends a bolt of alarm running through his body as he realised why he recognised the aftertaste the berries had left behind and the truth behind what had happened. “ _Syrup_!”

No!

She'd…she'd given him sleep syrup…

He struggled, attempting to force his fingers down his throat to induce vomiting in a desperate attempt to purge the medicine from his system but she effortlessly held him down, gazing down at him apologetically as he felt his limbs grow heavy, his vision fading out around the edges before eventually his grasp of consciousness slipped out of his fingers.

~ * ~

 _“He will forgive you, Sentinel,”_ Libertatem reassured her softly as she readied herself to head out towards the Cornucopia, her gaze falling to Peeta's unconscious form more than once. _“It may take time but he will see things from your perspective. Without the medicine he needs he will be dead long before these Games come to their grisly conclusion...”_

 _“You did the right thing,”_ Ao added gruffly. _“Libs is right. Your Guide will forgive you.”_

_“Seriously? He's got you calling me that already. My name is Libertatem, not Libs…”_

Ao snorted.

_“Too long. Libs is easier.”_

“Thank you, Libertatem,” she murmured softly, purposefully using his full name which caused the bird to preen visibly. “I need both of you to stay with him, to watch over him.”

_“You shouldn't be alone, Sentinel.”_

“I shall be fine,” she vowed, her stomach clenching painfully as she silently hoped that she spoke the truth. “I'll be able to focus better without worrying about him being all alone.”

 _“If you need me, call,”_ Ao ordered her sharply. _“I will hear you. I will come.”_

She couldn't help but smile across at her wolf.

“Libertatem's good for you, Ao,” she mumbled, shouldering her quiver and picking her bow up from where she'd leant it against the wall of the cave. “You're using full sentences...”

_“Ha Ha…”_

_“Stay safe, Sentinel.”_

Katniss met both of their piercing gazes for a long moment before answering softly,

“I'll try.”

It didn't take her long to reach the edge of the Cornucopia, dialling up her hearing so that she could pick out the rapid heartbeats of her fellow tributes as she found a perfect hiding spot just inside the tree line and almost directly opposite the table which had been set up in the mouth of the Cornucopia. On the table sit the backpacks Claudius had mentioned; two large black ones marked with the numbers _2_ and _11_ , a medium sized green one with the number 5 clearly visible on its side and lastly a tiny orange bag marked with the number _12_.

In the time it took her to realise that one of the three heartbeats she'd picked up on was increasing rapidly the girl she had nicknamed Foxface back at the training centre was already sprinting out of the metallic structure at the centre of the clearing, plucking the green bag off of the table and, leaving all of the others alone, took off towards the tree line only a couple of metres for where Katniss had chosen to hide whilst assessing the situation.

Her rapid footsteps continued long after her flaming red hair had disappeared from sight.

“Clever…” she muttered enviously, wishing she had been the one to come with such a clever strategy. By striking first and taking only her own bag she'd trapped Katniss and the others at the clearing, none of them able to chase her down or risk losing their own bag. “Damn…”

Despite knowing that her opponents will be expecting her to make a dash for it now she couldn't risk one of them snatching up her bag along with her if they made it to the table first and so, gripping hold of her bow tightly, she jumped up from her hiding place and sprinted as quickly as her powerful legs would take her in her weakened state. Her first attempt to grab hold of the bag failed, ruining her forward momentum as she was forced to reach back for it rather than just keep running as had been her intention but it actually proved to be a good thing as no sooner had she rounded the mouth of the Cornucopia than she heard the tell tale sound of a knife being launched through the air with deadly precision.

Clove.

Avoiding the first blade was easy enough but the second, thrown almost immediately after the first managed to slice through her eyebrow and up into her hairline as she threw herself backwards towards the ground in a desperate attempt to avoid it. The pain was immediate and intense but of all things it was the scent of her own blood which affected her the most, just as the scent of her burnt flesh had done when she'd been wounded at the start of the Games. Blood obscured her vision just long enough for Clove to reach her, slamming her body down into hers and actually flipping her up and over her shoulder when she blindly tried to fight back, the sudden impact with the ground robbing her of the air in her lungs.

Clove wasted no time in pinning Katniss to the ground, her feet hooked around her knees locking her legs in place even as she knelt on the winded girls hands to trap them down at her sides, using her body weight to her advantage so as to leave her hands completely free.

“Where's your boyfriend, Twelve?” she enquired, her voice as cold as ice as she plucks another knife from her jacket, twirling it around her fingers. “Still hanging on?”

It was rather horrifying how steady the other girl’s heartbeat was.

She wasn't excited or frightened by what was happening.

No, she was perfectly calm.

“He's out there now,” she attempted to bluff even as the blade was brought down to press against her throat, it's sharp edge drawing blood almost immediately. “Hunting Cato.”

“Liar,” Clove almost sang, tilting her head to one side as she plucked another knife from her jacket with her free hand and ran the sharp point of its blade across Katniss’s lips, silencing her. “He's nearly dead. Cato knows where he cut him, knows he cut him good and deep. You've probably got him strapped up in some tree while you try to keep his pathetic little heart going. What's in the backpack? Medicine for Lover Boy? Too bad he'll never get it.”

For the first time in her life Katniss bared her teeth and growled, low and animalistic as her Sentinel briefly over road control of her body in response to the threats against its mate.

“Talk about my _Guide_ like that again,” she growled up at the other girl. “I dare you.”

“… _Guide_?” Clove gasped in genuine surprise before letting out a chilling cackle, full of false merriment. “Oh, that is rich. You and him, a Sentinel and a Guide. Talk about unworthy…”

Bucking her hips in a desperate attempt to dislodge the girl pinning her down earned her a deep cut across her cheekbone although it wasn't the pain that managed to stop her struggling, it was the sight of Clove _licking_ some of the blood, _her blood_ , from the blade.

“I promised Cato that if he let me have you I'd give the audience a good show,” she murmured, flipping the knife over to lick at the other side of it. “I've always wondered what it would be like to kill a Sentinel. Admittedly I'd hoped for one a little bit more impressive than you, Katniss Everdeen, but I've never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth…”

Her heartbeat jumped, confirming her genuine excitement about the situation.

“There's something seriously wrong with you…”

Clove’s teeth were stained with blood as she smirked down at her, trailing the now clean blade back and forth along Katniss's jawline but never once letting it break through the skin.

“I’m going to kill you, _Sentinel_ ,” she sneered out the title which caused Katniss to growl just as loudly as before. Clove only laughed coldly. “Both of you. Just like we did your pathetic little ally…what was her name? The one who hopped around in the trees? Rue? That was it…first Rue…then you…and then I think we'll just let nature take care of Lover Boy. Sorry, you’re _Guide_. How does that sound? I think it sounds reasonable. Now, where to start?”

Katniss held her glare even as the psychotic girl studied her face.

“I think we’ll start with your mouth…”

 _I’m sorry, Peeta,_ she thought to herself as she held the other girl gaze, determined to perform a last act of defiance and hold her gaze for as long as possible. _I’m so sorry…_

“Yes, I don’t think you’ll have much use for your lips anymore,” Clove decided, tapping the tip of the blade against Katniss’s bottom lip. “Want to blow Lover Boy one last kiss?”

There was only one response she could possibly give to that, working up a mouthful of blood and saliva which she launched up into Clove’s face with a deadly sort of precision.

To say that Clove was unimpressed was an understatement.

“All right, then, _Sentinel_ ,” she sneered down at the girl she had pinned. “Let’s get started.”

She was bracing herself for the agony that she was about to be put through when all of a sudden she found herself free of the weight which had previously been pinning her down.

Clove’s heartbeat skyrocketed just as she began screaming in genuine fear.

What was happening?

Had Peeta somehow come to her rescue?

Was it some muttation let loose by the Gamemakers to make things more interesting?

It took her a long moment to pick up on the second pounding heartbeat…

“What’d you do to that little girl?”

Thresh.

It was Thresh.

“You kill her?”

He had one of his strong hands around her vulnerable throat and had managed to pin her body against the flat sheet of metal which made up the long side of the Cornucopia horn.

“No!” Clove cried out, obviously terrified. “No, it wasn’t me!”

“You said her name. I hard you. You kill her?”

Clove shook her head as best she could.

Pushing herself up onto her elbows Katniss met his gaze when he looked over his shoulder at her, his chocolate coloured gaze moving across her body before focusing on her face for a long moment. Reaching up with one hand, the one not clutching at the orange bag she had somehow managed to hold on to, she wiped off some of the blood running down her face.

“You cut her up like you were going to cut up this girl here?”

“No!” Clove screamed desperately, thrashing in his grip. “No, I – Cato! Cato!”

Somewhere in the distance Katniss heard his panicked response,

“Clove?!”

There was nothing he could have done to help her, nothing anyone could have done. It took Thresh three tries to crack her skull open against the side of the Cornucopia, slamming her head against the sheet of metal again and again and again until finally her screams ended.

A canon boomed seconds after he’d dropped her body to the floor.

“What’d she mean?” he demanded, rounding on Katniss who scrambled backwards across the floor instinctively to get away from him as he shouldered his own backpack. Obviously he’d managed to grab it before confronting Clove. “About…about Rue being your ally?”

“I…I…we teamed up,” Katniss answered, dialling down her hearing as she felt herself locking into his pounding heartbeat without meaning to. She could _not_ afford to have a zone out. “Blew up the supplies. I tried to save her, I did. But he got there first. Marvel, District One.”

“And you killed him?”

“Yes,” she answered quickly. Marvel’s face as was struck by her arrow flashed in her mind. He’d been frightened. “I killed him. And buried her in flowers. And I sang her to sleep.”

She could count on one hand the number of times she’d cried in her life.

The day her dad had died and the day that Rue had died.

Any yet now as she stared up at a boy who could end her life she felt tears building up in her eyes and it wasn’t just because of the memory of Rue’s last few moments, it was because she wasn’t ready to die yet. She wasn’t ready to leave her sister and her mother behind.

Wasn’t ready to lose Peeta, her Guide, not now that she’d finally found him.

“To sleep?”

“To death,” she corrected herself, absentmindedly continuing to wipe the blood off of her face as she looked up at him. “I sang until she died. You’re District…they sent me bread.”

He brows furrowed into a deep frown as he continued to stare down at her.

“Do it fast, ok, Thresh?”

Closing her eyes she pictured the last thing she wanted to see and readied herself for oblivion.

_Goodbye Peeta…_

**~ END OF PART TWO ~**


	3. Part Three

**Title:** What Doesn't Kill You

 **Author:** Marblez

 **Fandom/Genre:** Hunger Games

 **Relationship(s):** Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark

 **Content Rating:** R

 **Warnings:** Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Language

 **Summary:** Sentinels and Guides in the District are poorly treated/exploited whilst in the Capitol they are revered/fawned over. As such whilst those in the Capitol are “out and proud” those in the District’s tend to hide their gifts, living their lives alone and miserable. Peeta Mellark, an online Guide, is Reaped for the 74th Hunger Games and finds himself fighting alongside/against the only person he has ever felt drawn to in his life – Katniss Everdeen.

 **Word Count:** 3,380 (Part One) 5,749 (Part Two) 3,565 (Part Three)

**~ WHAT DOESN’T KILL YOU ~ (MAKES YOU STRONGER)**

**~ PART THREE ~**

**THE ARENA – DAY SIXTEEN**

Gazing up into the night sky from his position sheltered in the mouth of the cave so as not to get completely drenched by the continuing downpour Peeta let out a weary sigh, his hand rubbing absently over the bandage covering the deep wound to his thigh which was slowly beginning to heal thanks to the medicine Katniss had managed to bring back from the feast.

He had been beyond angry, bordering on furious, when he'd woken up to find his leg slathered in some thick gel like substance and Katniss lying unconscious beside him, her face covered in blood from one deep wound and two smaller yet just as bloody wounds. Only the fact that she was still breathing kept him from going completely feral then and there which, given he was a Guide, would have been impressive in of itself as they tended not to be as prone to feral outbursts as Sentinels were. The container of medicine she'd risked her life for had been resting on the ground by her limp hand and he had wasted absolutely no time in crawling across to it, applying a thick coat to the three wounds to her beautiful face.

 _“If we somehow manage to make it out of here alive I might just kill you myself, Sentinel,”_ he'd muttered as he'd work, his arms trembling under the strain of holding him up over her body and gently applying the mixture to her skin. _“We will most definitely be talking about this when you wake up. I mean seriously, Katniss, of all the idiotic things to do this just…”_

He'd managed to stay awake throughout that night, watching over her, and had witnessed the miracle that was the Capitol medicine healing her wounds. Because they were so small, only bleeding heavily as head wounds tended to do, they'd been reduced to mere scratches by the time the cave was filled with the greyish light produced by the sun behind the rain clouds which had been gathering overhead at the time. His own wound, so much deeper and infinitely more serious, was taking much longer but had at least stopped oozing pus.

His relief when Katniss had finally woken up had lasted only a few seconds before the anger was back, flooding through his senses and reducing him to vibrating mess of righteous fury and thus their first argument as a couple had taken place in a cave under the watchful eye of millions of people, neither of them willing to back down as they reiterated their beliefs.

It had ended in a stalemate which Katniss had eventually broken,

_“Look, I'm sorry I tricked you but I'm not sorry I went. I can't lose you, Guide. Not like that.”_

_“And I can't lose you, Sentinel. Not like that. We need to stay together, now more than ever.”_

However it had been Ao who had truthfully broken the tension within the cave a moment later when he and Libertatem had appeared out of the shadows, the wolf snorting loudly,

_“Oh, just kiss and make up already!”_

They hadn't kissed, not immediately, and both of them had been reduced to a giggling heap.

Then they'd kissed.

The unrelenting rain had kept them trapped inside the cave for the next couple of days, surviving off of what little food they had in their position and could gather close to the cave.

Despite knowing that the Gamemakers were listening in on their every word, choosing which conversations were worth sharing with the rest of Panem, they had passed the majority of the time talking, comparing stories and generally getting to know each other.

~ * ~

_“Did you mean what you said in your interview? About you having a crush on me?”_

_“I did,” he murmured softly in response to her sudden questions, turning his head to the side so that he could study her profile as she lay stretched out beside him. “I've had a crush on you forever, right from where we were little kids. I've always felt sort of drawn to you.”_

_He couldn't help but chuckle to himself as he realised what he'd just said._

_“Guess we know why now…” he sighed, grinning uncontrollably when she turned her own head to face him. Their eyes met. “You know, what with the whole Sentinel/Guide thing…”_

_“Forever?” she repeated softly, reaching out to lace her fingers with his. “How long is that?”_

_“You really want to know?”_

_Katniss nodded once._

_“Ok, well I suppose it started on the first day of school,” he explained softly, allowing his eyes to close as he pictured the scene in his mind as vividly as his memory would allow. “We were five. You were wearing a red plaid dress and your hair was in two braids instead of one. Actually my father pointed you out to me when we were waiting for registration to begin.”_

_“Your father?” Katniss sounded understandably confused. “Why?”_

_“He said, ‘See that little girl?’” he recited the words he could remember so clearly, inadvertently doing an impression of his dad’s voice. He had a slightly smoother accent then the rest of the family. “‘I wanted to marry her mother but she ran off with a coal miner.’”_

_“What? No!” Katniss gasped, squeezing his hand a little too tight. “You're making that up!”_

_“Why would I lie?” he chuckled, opening his eyes and meeting her confused gaze with a bright smile. “And anyway can't you hear my heartbeat? Does it sound like I'm lying to you?”_

_She frowned for a long moment before her expression smoothed out into one of wonder._

_“You're not lying…”_

_“Nope,” he agreed, allowing the ‘p’ to pop loudly. Katniss smiled ever so slightly. “Anyway, little five-year-old me turned round to my father and said, ‘A coal miner? Why did she want a coal miner if she could've had you?’ As you can tell I used to believe that my father was the best thing since sliced bread…and I can't believe I just used that particular idiom...but anyway he just turned to me and said, ‘Because when he sings even the birds stop to listen.’”_

_“That's true. They do,” Katniss confirmed before biting her bottom lip. “I mean, they did.”_

_“So that day, in music assembly, the teacher asked who knew the valley song and your hand shot right up into the air,” he continued with his story, reaching out with his free hand to stroke the contours of the braid her hair was being controlled by. “She stood you up on a stool and had you sing it for us and I swear, every bird outside the windows fell silent.”_

_She scoffed disbelievingly,_

_“Oh, please…”_

_“No, that's really what happened,” he insisted, his mouth stretching into a broad smile of his own. “By the time you finished singing I was a goner, just like your mum was before me, doomed to spend the next eleven years trying to work up the nerve to talk to you…”_

_Here Katniss snorted softly,_

_“Without success.”_

_“Without success,” he agreed, still smiling just as broadly. “So, in a way, my name being plucked out of the bowl was a real piece of luck. We're talking. Hell, we've Bonded…ish…”_

_“I don't know about you but I've only got a couple of senses to go,” Katniss admitted softly, her thumb stroking the back of his hand. “It won't take much for me to complete the Bond with you. Maybe…maybe if the rain keeps up like this we might as well use the time to…”_

_He couldn't resist teasing her._

_“I'm not having sex with you on camera, Katniss.”_

_Her immediate response was to punch him in the shoulder._

_“I'm joking. I'm joking,” he snorted loudly, taking hold of her fist in his free hand so that both of their hands were linked together between them. “I know how this works as well as you even though it's not really allowed in the Districts. Platonic Bond only until we legally come of age. Although don't you think it's slightly ironic that we can legally compete in the Hunger Games from the age of twelve but we can't complete a True Bond until we turn eighteen?”_

_“I think that whatever medication they gave you has gotten to your head,” Katniss chuckled although her frantic heartbeat confirmed the fact that she was faking her merriment. It took him a moment to realise that she was covering for him, protecting him from potential backlash following what could be considered a pretty radical statement. “I've never heard you ramble on so much, or overthink so much come to think of it. It's kind of cute…”_

_He made sure to over-exaggerate his appearance of mock outrage._

_“Cute?” he gasped. “I am not cute. I am manly. And strong. And – ”_

_She cut him off with a perfectly timed kiss during which he murmured an almost silent ‘thank you’ against her lips before allowing himself to be swept away by his heightened senses…_

~ * ~

And so, with the storm getting worse outside of their little sanctuary, the couple had spent the next twenty-four hours completing their Platonic Bond. It wasn't much of a show for the Capitol, given that most of the important moments like locking onto each other's heartbeats had no visible evidence, but it must have made them popular in the Capitol as a couple of parachutes containing various foods and a flask of tea made it through the storm to them.

When it was done, their senses locked on each other, Peeta had felt more grounded than he had in the two years following his emergence and Katniss, who it turned out had been online since the death of her father when she was just eleven, felt the same. Grounded.

 _“You do realise this means we're going to have to get married?”_ he'd enquired softly as they lay together. _“If we make it back to District Twelve. No way will our parents let us live together if we're not married and I don't think I could survive a single day without you now.”_

_“If that was you proposing to me it was pathetic…”_

He'd laughed in response to her dry statement.

 _“Katniss Everdeen,”_ he'd announced seriously. _“If we make it home I will gather as many wild flowers as I possibly can and, after asking for your mothers blessing, I will go down on one knee in front of the entire District if that's what it takes to make you happy. Ok?”_

_“…maybe not the entire District…”_

He was dragged from his pleasant thoughts by the evenings broadcast beginning, the ‘Horn of Plenty’ sounding out loudly as the Capitol Seal appeared through a gap in the clouds.

“There won't be anything to see tonight,” Katniss pointed out from where she was busy dishing up the food they had received early that morning. It smelled delicious, particularly the unfamiliar bread. “Nothing's happened today or we would've heard a cannon.”

It was at the moment that a familiar face replaced the Capitol Seal.

“Katniss…”

“What? Should we split another roll, too?”

_“Sentinel…”_

“I'm going to split another one,” she announced, stubbornly ignoring him and focusing on the food before her. “But I'll save the cheese for tomorrow. That way we can – ”

In the end he had no choice but to interrupt her.

“Thresh is dead.”

Katniss looked up sharply.

“He can't be. We didn't hear a…”

“It must have happen during that thunder storm earlier. Or when we were…distracted…”

She let out an unhappy noise, backing away from the food until she collided with the wall of the cave at high point she wrapped her arms around her in a hug. Peeta wasted little time in hurrying to join his Sentinel, pulling her into his arms and holding her as she trembled.

“You all right?”

 _Stupid question_ , he berated himself.

“It's just…if we didn't win I wanted Thresh to…” she explained hesitantly, her hands clutching tightly at his forearms. “Because he let me go. And because of Rue.”

He'd hardly been able to believe it when she told him about everything that had happened at the Cornucopia during the feast; Foxface outsmarting them all, Clove attacking, merely killing Katniss only to be killed by Thresh in retaliation for Rue's death, the enormous tribute then letting Katniss go because of the brief friendship she'd shared with the younger girl.

“Yeah, I know,” he murmured. “But this means we're one step closer to District Twelve.”

One step closer to going home.

~ * ~

**THE ARENA – DAY SEVENTEEN**

If there was one thing she wished she could have spared her Guide from feeling it was the guilt that came with knowing you were responsible for ending another person’s life, whether that be intentionally or not. When they'd finally been able to venture out of the cave following the end of the storm she had left him foraging for food and gone hunting.

Her heart had almost stopped when she'd heard the cannon go off.

It wasn't for Peeta, though, her senses had reassured her of that almost immediately as his heartbeat had still been loud and strong in her ear but he had definitely been upset.

She'd found him standing over Foxface’s lifeless body, the other girls lips stained with juice from the berries in her hand. Nightlock. As Peeta had tearfully explained it he'd found the poisonous berries and, upon recognising them for what they were thanks to his heightened sense of smell, had begun gathering them to use to coat her arrow heads and knife with.

He'd never intended for them to be eaten.

 _“I thought she was good at recognising poisonous berries,”_ he'd mumbled, unable to look away from the girls wide eyes. _“She was the quickest at that test in the training centre…”_

 _“She was starving, Peeta,”_ Katniss had comforted him, wrapping her arms around him. _“She must have seen you gathering them and just assumed they were safe. It's not your fault.”_

_“But it is my kill.”_

_“Yes,”_ she'd confirmed softly, thinking of the way the Gamemakers kept a log of all the kills made by the various tributes during the Games. _“Yes, she's your kill. But it's not your fault.”_

She vowed to keep repeating that as long as it took him to believe it.

“Katniss?” Peeta called out, drawing her out of her thoughts. “What time is it?”

“A little after noon…” she responded automatically before noticing what her Guide had picked up on, the way that the light seemed to be fading around them as they made their way back towards the safety of the cave. Or at least that had been their intention. “Huh…”

“Why is it so dark?”

“They must be in a hurry to end it.”

Peeta sighed deeply.

“OK. Well then let's just head to the Cornucopia now,” he decided suddenly, pausing mid-step and turning to face her. “That's where Cato will be, right? Let's just end this thing…”

Her arms were wrapped tightly about him before she'd even registered the fact that she was moving, her face ending up pressed against the side of his neck as he responded by winding his strong arms around her waist and resting his cheek on the top of her head.

“Two against one,” he murmured softly, his voice steady despite the obvious pounding of his heart. He was terrified but was somehow managing not to show it. “Piece of cake.”

His strength fuelled her own.

_“My Guide…”_

_“My Sentinel…”_

It was completely dark but for the light of the artificial moon in a matter of minutes.

A deep, monstrous growl filled the air.

“What was that?”

Automatically Katniss checked for her Spirit Guide and found the wolf blinking across at her from a spot up ahead of them. High above them Libertatem let out a sharp cry of warning.

“It's the finale…”

Again Libertatem called out but this time he used actual words,

_“Run!”_

~ * ~

It took all of five metres for his wound to split open afresh, blood bursting out from his thigh as the pain returned ten-fold but he didn’t even consider breaking his stride. He’d made the mistake of looking over his shoulder when he’d heard movement behind them so he knew exactly what he was desperately trying to get away from – a monstrous wolf-like creature.

Katniss was ahead of him but he didn’t even consider calling out for her to slow down.

“Go, Katniss!” he called out somewhat breathlessly as they burst out from the treeline into the circular clearing at the centre of which sat the horn which was their only hope. “Go!”

He had only made it halfway across the clearing when one muttation became three.

Katniss reached the metallic structure, her body slamming into the side of the horn, and she immediately began scrambling up its flat side. At first she tried holding onto her bow but eventually she threw it up ahead of her so that she would have both of her hands free.

_“Sentinel!”_

Slamming into the metal structure just as she had he immediately reached up, pushing at the bottom of one of her feet so that she had something to aid her in her desperate ascent.

A frantic glance over his shoulder warned him that three muttations had become seven.

_“Guide!”_

His leg buckled underneath him as he tried to follow her and if it weren’t for the fact that she was already reaching down to grab hold of him and pull him up he’d never have made it. As it was he moved too slowly to completely escape the muttations, crying out in pain as the razor sharp claws sliced open his already wounded leg from the top of his thigh to his knee.

_“Peeta!”_

In the time it took her to haul him up onto the top of the horn the muttations had mauled the lower half of his leg which he’d only just regained the feeling in completely to ribbons.

“Peeta! Are you – ”

Katniss cut herself off with a startled cry as she was dragged away from Peeta, throwing her aside with enough force to nearly send her tumbling over the opposite edge of the structure whilst Peeta himself crumpled down onto his knees with a desperate scream of pure pain.

They’d forgotten about Cato.

The Career was bleeding from several places, no doubt from his fight with Thresh, but that didn’t stop him from snatching up his sword and swinging it towards Katniss. It was pure instinct for Peeta to grit his teeth against the pain and literally throw himself at Cato’s legs.

He succeeded in knocking the taller boy down, saving Katniss for the moment, but unfortunately due to his injuries and the rapid blood loss he was suffering it didn’t take long for the Career to overpower him, trapping him in a choke hold just as Katniss nocked an arrow into her bowstring, aiming it towards Cato who unfortunately used Peeta as a shield.

“Go on,” Cato called out, his breath tickling Peeta’s ear unpleasantly. “Shoot.”

Strangely enough the loudest heartbeat he was being bombarded with was the Career’s.

Cato was terrified.

“Then we’d both go down and you’d win,” he chuckled, pain and fear and sadness in his voice just as Peeta’s leg’s crumpled beneath him leaving the arm around his neck as the only thing keeping him upright. Unfortunately whereas with other people this would have caused them to release him, his dead weight too much for them to hold on to, in Cato’s case he just held on tighter. “Go on. I’m dead anyway. I always was, right? I didn’t know that until now.”

Silently trying to apologise to Katniss for putting her in this position he wracked his brain, desperately trying to remember the advice they had been given during their training on what to do when you were being held in a hold like this. Only one thing came to mind.

He needed to cause a distraction, something that would cause Cato to loosen his grip.

But what?

“How's that?” the Career in question demanded of the sky. “Is that what you want? Huh?”

It felt as though his windpipe was being crushed beyond the point of recovery as Cato somehow found the strength to tighten his grip on his neck, shaking him for good measure.

“Don’t…” Katniss whimpered so softly Cato couldn’t have heard her. “Please…don’t…”

He needed to do something.

Now.

It was then that he noticed how the Career’s hands were placed; one squeezing his throat whilst the other held onto his own forearm, locking it in place to keep up the pressure.

“I can still do this,” Cato vowed, a hint of anguish entering into his voice. Peeta ignored him, finding Katniss’s petrified gaze and holding it long enough for her to realise he was trying to communicate. “I can still do this. One more kill. It’s the only thing I know how to do.”

‘Shoot him,’ Peeta mouthed the words slowly and carefully whilst using a single finger to indicate the back of Cato’s hand, not the one around his throat but the other one. ‘Shoot.’

Katniss nodded once so minutely even Peeta nearly missed it.

“Bring pride to my District,” Cato continued despondently. “Not that it matters...”

Katniss took the shot.

**~ END OF PART THREE ~**


	4. Part Four

**Title:** What Doesn't Kill You

 **Author:** Marblez

 **Fandom/Genre:** Hunger Games

 **Relationship(s):** Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark

 **Content Rating:** R

 **Warnings:** Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Language

 **Summary:** Sentinels and Guides in the District are poorly treated/exploited whilst in the Capitol they are revered/fawned over. As such whilst those in the Capitol are “out and proud” those in the District’s tend to hide their gifts, living their lives alone and miserable. Peeta Mellark, an online Guide, is Reaped for the 74th Hunger Games and finds himself fighting alongside/against the only person he has ever felt drawn to in his life – Katniss Everdeen.

 **Word Count:** 3,380 (Part One) 5,749 (Part Two) 3,565 (Part Three) 2,594 (Part Four) **15,288 (Total)**

**~ WHAT DOESN’T KILL YOU ~ (MAKES YOU STRONGER)**

**~ PART FOUR ~**

Upon seeing the unassuming yellow dress Cinna had designed for her to wear to her post-Games interview she couldn't help but snort, shaking her head as she obediently stepped into it and allowed her prep team to work it up her legs, slipping her arms through the odd little bows which acted as the dresses sleeves before they began lacing up the tight bodice.

“Given up on the ‘girl on fire’ thing, then?”

“You tell me.”

Nodding towards the mirror just as someone manhandled her into stepping into a flimsy pair of flat leather sandals Katniss took a moment to steady herself before glancing at her reflection in the ridiculously large mirror. It seemed as though the sheer fabric layered around her body was glowing as it rippled with even the slightest movement in the air.

Cinna had created a dress made of candlelight and it was utterly perfect.

“I thought it would be more…you know… _fitting for a Sentinel…”_

Ever since waking up in the hospital she'd been bombarded with questions and compliments about her status, everyone from the nurses to the cleaners to her own prep-team amazed by her “wondrous revelation” and the fact that she was the first Sentinel to win the Games.

“I thought Peeta would like this better.”

Peeta.

Her heart clenched painfully as she thought of her Guide who she hadn't seen or heard from since the moment they were plucked from the Arena following the final announcement.

**_“Ladies and Gentlemen. May I present the winners of the 74th Annual Hunger Games – Sentinel Katniss Everdeen and Guide Peeta Mellark of District Twelve! Congratulations!”_ **

Peeta had been close to death on the hovercraft despite the tourniquet she'd applied to his leg as soon as the threat Cato posed had been dealt with, the medics on the hovercraft focusing on her just long enough to give her a sedative before hurrying over to focus on him.

No one would tell her anything about him.

Not Haymitch.

Not Cinna.

Not even Effie.

She could only hope that, in spite of how new their Bond was, she would have been able to feel it had there been something wrong, that she'd have known if he hadn't…if he'd…

“We're going to leave your hair down for once,” Cinna announced, drawing her attention back to the task at hand just as he produced a simple yellow headband from seemingly nowhere and carefully slipped it onto her head. “There. That'll keep it off your face nicely.”

Huh…

Individually the elements of her outfit would have been unremarkable but when put together the magical dress, the flat sandals, the loose hair and simple make-up combined to create an image of youthful innocence. She looked years younger than her actual age but more importantly she looked nothing like your typical Victor or even your typical Sentinel.

“Cinna…”

He responds with a soft smile before encouraging her to exit the dressing room, leading her silently through a maze of corridors to the backstage area she recognised from her previous interview with Caesar Flickerman. Haymitch was already there dressed in a smirk suit of Capitol design and drinking from a large hip-flask which he quickly slips into his pocket.

The noise from the audience is already so loud it's almost deafening.

“They're not happy with you,” he mutters instead of using a more traditional greeting, stepping in close to her and pulling her in for a completely unexpected hug. “Not at all.”

“Why? Because we…because I didn't die?”

“Because you showed them up,” he hissed, still holding her close so that he could murmur in her ear, all the while acting like he was overcome with emotion so that no one would suspect the serious nature of the intimate conversation. “Not only did you play them at their own game with that move with the nightlock berries but you also managed to conceal your status from them until you were already so popular they couldn't do anything about it. The one thing they can't stand is being laughed at and nod they're the joke of Panem.”

“Well, I'm sorry it didn't go the way they planned,” she muttered, trying to pull away from his grip but he held on tightly. “You know, I'm not very happy with them, either…”

“Katniss, this is serious. Not just for you,” he hissed, putting enough inflection behind his words that she felt herself go cold. He couldn't mean her family, could he? They wouldn't…would they? “They don't take things like this lightly. Your only defence is that you were so madly in love with Peeta, with your Guide, that you weren't responsible for your actions, that you would rather die than live on without him. Do you understand? Katniss?”

“I _would_ rather die than live without him, Haymitch.”

“Good,” he sighed with obvious relief as he let her go. “Then there shouldn't be a problem.”

Out of nowhere a young stagehand dressed all in black appeared, gently guiding her to a spot in the wings of the large stage behind a curtain whilst Haymitch and Cinna were led away by a young woman in a painfully bright green dress, taking them out to their seats.

A voice crackled inside the headset the stagehand was wearing over one ear,

_“We are live in ten, nine, eight, house lights down, six, five, stage lights up, three, two, one.”_

As the stage was suddenly flooded with light revealing Caesar Flickerman in one of his typical outrageous outfits, this one literally sparkling, the familiar recording of the national anthem was played so loudly that it felt like her ears were going to bleed even after she'd dialled down her senses as far as they could safely go. Timing it perfectly Caesar began speaking as soon as the last strains of the anthem had faded away, his excitable greeting causing the crowd to roar with approval as he introduced Haymitch, Effie, Cinna and Portia to the masses. Her hiding place unfortunately didn't allow her to see them but she could imagine the four of them lit up by a spotlight, acknowledging the rapturous applause.

“Now, ladies and gentlemen, you are about to witness a very special moment,” Caesar announced grandly once the applause had died down. “Katniss and Peeta haven't seen each other since they were collected from the Arena. I know! I know! So get your handkerchiefs ready, folks, as it is now my absolute pleasure to introduce the winners of the 74th Annual Hunger Games – Sentinel Katniss Everdeen and Guide Peeta Mellark of District Twelve!”

A hand at the small of her back gave her a gentle shove to start her moving.

However after only a couple of unsteady paces she could do nothing to stop herself from breaking into an unladylike sprint as she caught sight of Peeta emerging from the wings on the opposite side of the stage, limping his way past Caesar with a huge smile on his face.

“Katniss!”

“Peeta!”

Nothing could have stopped themselves from throwing themselves into each other's arms, clutching at each other tightly as they peppered kisses all over each other's faces before settling in for a deep, intimate kiss. As it was it was only Peeta stumbling unsteadily that caused Katniss to pull away, her eyes dropping to the metal cane he was obviously relying on to keep himself upright. She hesitated only a moment before altering her stance to help steady him, encouraging him to slip his free arm around her shoulders so that she could take his weight, a move which only caused the large audience of Capitolites to cheer even louder.

“Sorry,” Peeta apologised softly, the sensitive microphones picking up his every word which all but silenced the audience in a matter of seconds. “Still not used to the prosthetic yet…”

“Prosthetic?”

The word tasted foul on her tongue…

“They couldn't save my leg,” he explained with a sad smile. “But they've given me a new one which, if I understood everything they told me, will be better than the original eventually.”

They'd…they'd chopped off his leg?

“I'm sorry…”

“Not your fault…”

Caesar interrupted them then, inviting them to take their seats on the stage which they did so gratefully, Peeta holding keeping hold of Katniss's hand once they were both settled.

“Katniss, I have to ask,” Caesar began his interview as soon as he could, leaning forwards in his own seat in an open display of anticipation. “How did you feel? When you found him by the river? When you realised that he was the other half of your soul? Your Guide?”

Heeding her mentors warming she plastered a fake smile on her face and answered softly,

“I felt like the happiest person in the world. I can't imagine my life without him.”

The audience, quite predictably, lapped it up and let out a loud “aww…” in response.

Her answer was the truth but she would never have responded so simperingly had she not been being forced to play a part, to keep up the character that she’d inadvertently created.

“And what about you, Peeta?”

Peeta, a much better actor than she was, actually looked rather emotional as he answered,

“She saved my life, Caesar…”

In a moment of pure inspiration she reached out with her other hand, clutching his hand with both of hers as she offered him a small smile before correcting him softly,

“We saved each other.”

Just as she'd predicted the audience absolutely loved it.

All too soon, however, it was time for the nightmare that was the annual recap to begin…

~ * ~

_Daylight began returning to the Arena mere seconds after Katniss had ended Cato’s suffering at the hands, or rather the razor sharp claws and teeth, of the muttations with a perfectly placed arrow. It hurt his eyes, how quickly the Arena brightened around them._

_“We should probably get down,” he murmured softly. “I might need a hand, though…”_

 

_Katniss nodded, moving across the nearest side of the Cornucopia and using the sloping piece of metal as a slide of sorts before turning round to catch Peeta when he followed her._

_He would have crumpled to the ground had she not literally caught him._

_“Oh, God…” he whimpered, looking down at his leg as it throbbed with pain. “Is that bone?”_

_“Don’t think about it…” she ordered softly, putting his arm around her shoulders and helping him to limp away from the structure. “Dial down everything you can. They’ll be here soon.”_

**_“Attention, Tributes. There has been a slight rule change.”_ **

_“No…”_

**_“The previous revision allowing two victors from the same District has been…revoked. Only one victor may be crowned. Good luck. And may the odds be ever in your favour.”_ **

_Peeta closed his eyes, letting out a resigned sigh as the Capitol proved once again that they couldn’t be trusted by forcing them to turn on one another after believing they were safe._

_Moving listlessly, gritting his teeth against the pain in his leg, he stumbled a couple of paces away from his dazed Sentinel. Coming to a halt, pushing down against his ruined legs knee-cap as it threated to give out, he turned back to face her and slowly spread his arms wide._

_“Go ahead…” he murmured, his arms trembling uncontrollably as he offered her his chest as a target. “One of us should go home. One of us has to die. They have to have their victor.”_

_His words snapped her out of her dumbfounded stupor._

_“No. They don’t,” she announced firmly, returning to his side. “Why should they?”_

_Reaching into her jacket pocket she produced the deadly nightlock berries she had kept after Peeta had inadvertently used them to kill Foxface. She couldn’t mean to…_

_“No!”_

_“Trust me,” Katniss muttered stopping him from knocking the poisonous berries out of her hand, meeting his gaze. Her heartbeat was the steadiest he’d ever heard it. “Trust me.”_

_She tipped half of the berries into his shaking hand._

_Yes…_

_He couldn’t live without her…_

_She couldn’t live without him…_

_It looked like the Capitol would have to live without a Victor this year…_

_“Together?”_

_“Together.”_

_A strange feeling of calm settled over his exhausted, malnourished and battered body._

_Peace…_

_Soon they would be at peace…_

_“Ok…” Peeta sighed, memorising the contours of his Sentinel’s beautiful face. “One…”_

_Katniss looked away from him, gazing out into the trees even as her eyes glazed over._

_“Two…”_

_His hand moved of its own accord, reaching out to play with the soft strands of hair curling around the tie securing the bottom of her braid, drawing her attention away from the trees._

_“Three.”_

_Moving as one they brought the deadly berries up to their mouths…_

**_“Stop!”_ ** _Claudius’s booming voice echoed around the Arena. **“Stop!”**_

_Peeta gasped, freezing up completely even as Katniss knocked his hand away from his mouth with her own sending all of the berries tumbling towards the ground. Once empty her hand moved to press against his chest over the top of his pounding heart, her other hand cupping his strong jawline and encouraging him to tilt his head towards hers so that their foreheads ended up pressed together. Their shuddering breaths mingled between them as they waited to hear the rest of the announcement. Claudius’s voice shook as though he were frightened._

**_“Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present the winners of the 74th Annual Hunger Games.”_ **

_They’d done it._

_They’d done it!_

~ * ~

President Snow smelt like death.

That was the only way Peeta could describe the scent that clung to the man they found themselves presented before, dialling down his sense of smell with a miniscule wince. It was obvious he wore the rose in an effort to mask the putrid scent and he guessed it would probably have worked for someone with normal senses but never for a Sentinel or a Guide.

Something about that scent terrified him.

“Congratulations.”

Katniss’s heartbeat skipped a beat before she answered softly,

“Thank you.”

Having finished placing the delicate crown on Katniss’s head President Snow paused for a moment, adjusting her hair so that it hung artfully around her shoulders which revealed the brass mockingjay pin which she had worn throughout the Games. A gift from Madge Undersee, the Mayor’s daughter, apparently, given to her before they left for the Capitol.

“What a lovely pin…”

“Thank you,” Katniss murmured, keeping her voice steady. “It's from my District.”

President Snow’s smile reminded Peeta of the bloodthirsty grins the muttations had worn.

“They must be very proud of you, my dear,” he murmured before finally moving away from Katniss, stalking across to stand before Peeta. A second crown was produced, resting atop a velvet cushion, and the most powerful man in the country wasted no time in crowning him. “Congratulations, Peeta. Did you know you’re the first Guide ever to be crowned Victor?”

“No, I didn’t…”

It didn’t surprise him, however, as the only reason he’d survived was because of his Sentinel. Had he been alone inside the Arena there was no doubt in his mind that he would have perished just like any other Guide would have. It just wasn’t in their nature to kill.

“Quite the responsibility,” President Snow murmured, breaking off with an almost violent cough which he caught with a pristine white handkerchief. Peeta frowned. He could smell blood... “I look forward to getting to know you and your Sentinel in the coming years.”

A cold chill pooled in his stomach as he realised that their fight, their struggle was far from over.

**~ THE END ~**


End file.
